


Hear My Beating Heart

by shannedo



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Divergent AU, M/M, Slow Build, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shannedo/pseuds/shannedo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Divergent AU. Faced with the most difficult decision of his life, Steve decides to turn his back on all he knows. He is completely alone in this dangerous new world and hunted by those who fear what makes him different. When everything hangs in the balance, the only person who can help him is a boy as volatile as his own legend suggests.</p><p>*ABANDONED*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries. Jeez. This is my first fic on my AO3 account and I'm super nervous! So if you tell me what you think or leave a kudos, that would be so awesome! A massive thank you to [bvckyybarness](http://www.bvckyybarness.tumblr.com), I couldn't have even started this without your help! Unbeta-d, all mistakes are my own.

It was the sun that awoke him. Same as every morning. The glow penetrated his threadbare curtains and cast long shadows. It tinted the room a bright orange and caused Steve to stir. He opened his eyes against the glare, blinking again and again before sitting up.

His thin blanket fell from his chest and he rolled his shoulders. A satisfying ache spreading through his torso, his lower back and his neck. He no longer needed to wear the modest pyjamas of his faction, not now that no one was around to see him bare his flesh. That should have made him feel free; liberated of the strict rules and customs that had plagued him all his life. But it only brought back the pain of the gaping hole in his chest.

He changed his underwear and pulled on a long sleeved shirt and trousers. All his clothes were in different gradients of dull, inanimate grey. He rolled the too short shirt sleeves up to his elbows but nothing could be done for his jeans. He just pulled on socks of a matching grey before putting on his shoes, hoping no one could tell his trousers were too short. It wasn't vanity, he reminded himself. Wanting to avoid teasing was not vanity. Or so he hoped.

Not that many people at school teased Steve anymore. They had a few years ago, when he hardly reached five feet tall. But after a series of growth spurts, he was too tall for people to bother. Now, his ill fitting wardrobe and unusual height repelled people rather than attracted them. It was a welcome change.

He dumped his dirty clothes in a bucket of cold water in the kitchen. He'd wash it when he got home. Then, he grabbed the leftovers from last night's dinner: half of a processed ham sandwich and a handful of raisins. It was a pretty average breakfast and would last him until lunch. He left the house, locking the door and pocketing the key. He didn't put it under the doormat for his mother's use anymore.

Walking faster than usual, he made it to the children's home within a few minutes. When it was peaceful, the children's home was undistinguishable from the rest of the neighbourhood. It looked the same as Steve's own grey cinderblock home. But in the morning, the upstairs window was always wide open and a stream of giggling and shouts flowed from it.

He recognised Tony's voice in an instant. "What do you mean you ate my apple?" he snapped. "We must have different definitions of sharing, then! I guess that settles it. Give me those grapes." There were noises of protest. _"Share, Emily!"_   he mocked. Steve nearly choked on his sandwich. Emily was five years old. "Give me the damn grapes or I'll bring you to court for theft, you little-"

There was the sound of a door opening and Tony cut himself short. There were voices and arguing for a few moments. Then, Tony appeared at the front door, kicking it shut behind him and pretty much strutting down the path to Steve. He clasped a bunch of red grapes in his hand.

Steve split into a grin as they started down the cracked sidewalk to the bus stop. "What was all that about?" He took the grape Tony offered and popped it in his mouth. The rich, juicy taste contrasted with the bland tastes of regular Abnegation food. The grapes were large and round, the product of years of hard work to find the perfect techniques, fertiliser and plot of land. Not that Steve often reaped the benefits. Abnegation ate only because it was necessary. Eating good, rich food was considered self-servicing.

"Fruit," Tony replied. "Amity went over their quota this month. Rather than give the spare apples to Erudite so they can make offerings to Sir Isaac Newton, they donated to all the kid's homes in the city. Nifty," he explained, his words punctuated with the usual wild hand gestures and nods of his head, like he was talking to himself. He threw a grape into the air and pretended nothing happened when it bounced off of his chin and fell to the ground.

"You trash talk Erudite a lot for someone who wants to join them," Steve pointed out. It wasn't the first time that it had occurred to him that Tony didn't even need to take the aptitude test today. He was wickedly smart and topped all their classes, much to the frustration of their Erudite classmates. Needless to say, Steve and Tony weren't in the popular crowd.

Besides, Tony was pretty desperate to join them. He thought that their current projects were pointless and he decided long ago that he would be the person to get the faction back on track. He restlessly pursued knowledge; he was already Erudite.

Snapping Steve out of his thoughts, Tony snorted and ate his last grape. "Smart people don't get along. Fact. It's just constant competing. That's why we get along so well, Steven. No competition to be had!"

Steve elbowed him in the ribs, ignoring the ridiculous look of hurt on his friend's face. "I can't believe you grew up in Abnegation. There isn't a selfless bone in your body."

"Intelligence spawns confidence which spawns resilience."

"Resilience? I thought intelligence was the acceptance of change?"

"Shut up, Rogers."

They paid their bus fares and took seats next to each other in the tight rows of seats. Their bickering continued all the way to school, the way it always did. They discussed the previous night and Tony complained about the volunteer work his foster parents forced him to do. In return, Steve gave a thrilling play by play of how he helped his next door neighbour fix her sink.

They only stopped their chatter when they arrived at school, making their way through the large doors for the last time. It was their final day of public schooling. Afterwards, their factions would be responsible for finishing their education. Steve paused by the glass walls of the school when his watch reached twenty five minutes past seven. It was the same thing he did every morning. Tony commented about how it wasn't different yesterday and it won't be different today but Steve just ignored him.

He watched the tracks that ran parallel to the building as a long train rounded the corner. These tracks ran through the entire city, elevated a story above the street. But opposite the Upper Levels school, a tall grass bank met the tracks and sloped down to the ground. The train never stopped. Not to let people on or off. That was the main reason only Dauntless used them.

Dauntless were the only faction brave enough - or stupid enough - to throw themselves from a moving train.

Like every morning, it didn't slow down, not even when its passengers started hurling themselves from the carriages.

The Dauntless students were gleeful and full of energy in their dangerous routine. Some bounded down the hill at a sprint, others rolled hectically and pounced to their feet, unscathed. They rarely hurt themselves and would race for the school doors, their laughter loud and their spirits high.

They made Steve gape in awe.

"I still think this is a dumb idea," Tony said next to him, watching Steve with something akin to worry.

Steve forced himself to look away from the Dauntless, meeting Tony's gaze. "Why?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow in challenge. "I'm brave. With practice, I'll be strong and quick."

"Steve, you can't climb the stairs to homeroom without wheezing."

The callous and thoughtless way he said it sparked irritation in the taller boy. "Thanks for the vote of support," he snapped. "It's easy for you. You're... you, your result will be Erudite before they finish hooking you up to the simulator. I... I can't stay in Abnegation, Tony. I can't deal with the sympathy, the packages of food that just appear on my doorstep. I can't. I'm Dauntless, I'm going to be Dauntless."

Tony winced, rubbing the back of his neck the way he always did when he was uncomfortable. "I didn't mean what I said about you not being smart, Steve. You could be Erudite! And if you were struggling, I could help you. Come on, I just don't want you to be-"

"You're not my mother, Tony. I don't need someone to hold my hand," Steve snapped, his temper rising. He sighed and shoved past his friend, walking down the hall. "Just do me a favour and keep one rule today. Don't talk about the test, don't ask me about my result."

Biting his lip, Tony followed after him.

* * *

 

The day's classes seemed to last forever to Steve. He didn't listen closely, knowing he'd never need these ridiculous and pointless formulae again. Nerves were eating away at his stomach and he couldn't think of the test without feeling weak. The aptitude test would decide his future. It would determine which of the five factions he best belonged to and then, tomorrow, he'd choose his faction.

There was an element of free will to the choice. You could choose to go against your result if you wanted to but every adult told him the same thing.

Choose the faction you are most compatible to. Trust the test.

It was something he'd heard a million times before but he was yet to agree with it. The entire system just seemed odd to him. How could a person only display one of the qualities that the different factions value? Was that even possible? With kindness came selflessness. With justice came intelligence. That was logical.

Abnegation valued selflessness. Amity valued kindness. Candor valued honesty. Erudite valued intelligence. Dauntless valued bravery.

The thought of the test was making his stomach roll and he pushed it from his mind. The feeling was mutual, as his classmates either had a nervous twitch or a worried look on their face. Even the Dauntless born were more restless than energetic. They looked less like they were ready to jump off a building or juggle knives. Instead, their knees bounced and they would drum their fingers against their desks.

The teachers sensed the restlessness in their pupils but continued with their lessons anyway. They all without fail ended their lectures with the same three words. Trust the test.

Steve repeated that mantra to himself over and over as he picked at his meagre lunch of pasta salad. His usual lunch table of Abnegation were quiet too. Even Tony, who sat opposite him was silent, poking at his dinner. The other sixteen year olds were lost in their thoughts and the younger students kept quiet out of respect. No one talked about what was to come, they weren't allowed to.

"What's wrong with you people?" a rich English accent broke the group's silence. "Was your breakfast too big?"

Comments like these were common to Abnegation. Nothing they hadn't heard a million times before. It began when Erudite accused Abnegation of hoarding the food that they claimed to give to the factionless.

Steve looked up and saw a boy standing at the other end of the table. He was tall and slim, slicked back raven hair in stark contrast with his pale skin. He wore a tight fitting t-shirt, half black and half white, the colours meeting at his midriff. Equally tight black jeans clung to his slender legs and a sneer dominated his features.

He was Candor, trained to speak his mind, unable to stop words from flowing out, offensive or not. "I'm asking you a question!" he snapped when no one replied. The other kids sitting around the table avoided his gaze and hunched in on themselves. In Abnegation, cruel words served no purpose and only made people feel worse, so arguing was frowned upon. But Tony was never one to follow customs.

"Well, I had a small breakfast, if you wanna small talk, Your Majesty," he said, unflinchingly meeting the boy's glare. "How about you? I'd tell you not to lie, but then again there's no point in that. What was in your massive breakfast that was fit for ten starving factionless?"

The boy's jaw clenched at that, his hands in fists at his sides. The other kids gave Tony wide eyed stares, as if they couldn't believe what he was saying. They all knew full well that Tony wasn't like them but he still wore the grey garb, was still expected to conform to faction customs. It upset Steve that even when this boy was spitting out accusations they still wouldn't stand up for themselves.

Steve was tense, angry at what the boy was saying. He should be used to this kind of thing now, but it still made him mad. The boy looked vicious, satisfied that he'd gotten a response and that so much of the table remained submissive. "Are you really so used to banquets of rich food that you forget how restricted our diets are? Restricted by your own faction so that you can feast and fatten yourselves?" he spat, causing nearby tables to turn and watch the conflict.

For Steve, that was the last straw. His faction did not have rich diets but instead ate far simpler than the rest of the factions. He was sick of seeing Abnegation children who were already hard and angular in appearance. They were deprived of the childish roundness they would have in the other factions.

He rose from his seat and couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction when he stood taller than the Candor boy. There were a few benefits to being this tall. "Now, I could deny your claims until I'm blue in the face," he pointed out. "Many of our leaders have already and will continue to do so. What I don't understand is why someone of Candor refuses to listen to reason. You believe the reasoning Erudite supply for their allegations, despite the fact that we have disproved it. Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't your faction value honesty and justice?"

His words quietened the boy instantly. Questioning someone's worthiness of their faction could cause a lot of embarrassment. Considering Steve had just done so in front of a cafeteria full of people, it had done just that.

The boy was about to retort with some excuse when a larger boy, Candor again, appeared behind him. He was taller, the same height as Steve, with broad shoulders and long blond hair. "Come on, Loki," he said, speaking with an identical accent. "Stop antagonising these good people." Loki looked like he was about to snap at the other boy but instead let himself be lead away, back to a group of people dressed in black and white.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, Steve took his seat once more. He didn't miss the amused looks some people were casting him. Tony wore a wide grin, the mischievous look that Steve knew all too well in his eyes. "Rogers, I think I might have been wrong about Dauntless."

That in itself was enough to make Steve smirk. Instead of pushing it, he just savoured the fact that Tony Stark had just admitted to being wrong.

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch and most of the students got up and went for their afternoon classes.

Those aged sixteen remained in the cafeteria and waited for their name to be called.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback, guys! This is so much fun to write and I hope it's fun to read. You can have a look at my [tumblr](http://www.scisaaclahey.co.vu) here. Unbeta-d, all mistakes are my own :)

Time seemed to slow down as he waited. Steve looked around. His eyes flitted from the plain linoleum flooring to the scuffed plastered walls to the massive windows. Sunlight filtered in, gleaming bright and high in the sky by now. His hands lay on the table before him, restless.

He controlled his breathing. Slow inhale. Slow exhale. He ignored the nauseous rolling of his stomach.

It wasn't long now. Melanie Pullman and Daniel Reyes were the Abnegation who were currently being tested. That made him next. The other Abnegation were as quiet as ever. Those who had already been tested seemed distracted and completely lost in their thoughts. He couldn't tell from a glance who would stay and who would leave tomorrow. Abnegation required a person to always think of others first. They didn't lose themselves in emotions and remained calm and available to help anyone who needed it. If any of them were alarmed with their results, their habitually schooled features didn't show it.

Steve glanced up to his best friend. Tony's eyebrows were stitched together, the corners of his mouth tugged down into a frown. It was the look he always had when he was thinking hard. Steve wondered if he was thinking about the test. Or maybe he was just reciting the times tables up to whatever ridiculous number he'd mastered. Erudite tended to enjoy ridiculous practices like that.

The brightly clothed Amity sat just off to his right, on the ground, their knees touching in a tight circle. They laughed and smiled without a care in the world, even if some of them looked nervous. Candor were talking amongst themselves, some with raised voices. They were most likely debating something or other but not in a serious manner, as they all looked amused. Steve's eyes rested on the boy from earlier for a moment, surprised to see he was calm and at ease. He felt a twinge of guilt for embarrassing him as he did.

Erudite chattered among themselves, some contemplating important issues, judging by the thoughtful expressions. Others were talking in animated tones. They gestured to an open book before them or waved their hands around in an attempt of illustrating their words. Steve gave a small smile, knowing Tony would fit right in.

Dauntless, however, were the source of most of the noise in the cafeteria. They talked loudly, slapped playing cards and dices down on their table and play fought. They pulled the most bizarre and expressive faces, arms flailing in ways that were almost laughable. It made Steve feel warm, the excitement they felt for even the smallest life events clearly conveyed in their every action.

This was no small event though.

Someone took the empty seat beside him and Steve flinched, looking up. It was only Peggy, he realised and let out a small sigh of relief. She smiled at him and laid a comforting hand on his arm. "You look worried," she said.

It was so like her to notice these things, Steve thought. She fit so well in this faction, thoughtful, selfless, always thinking of other's needs. She was the kind of person who could light up a room with her warm, captivating smile.

She was also beautiful in such an effortless way. Abnegation only allowed fleeting glances in the mirror but Steve doubted she even needed it. Her hair was done in a simple knot, her features pretty and strong, far too grown up and sophisticated for a sixteen year old.

"Aren't you?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound rude. He knew he shouldn't be asking about her feelings now, as she'd already taken her test and asking about it broke a lot of rules. Despite this, her expression was as serene as ever, giving nothing away and it made him curious.

Her features flickered to some expression Steve couldn't place for a moment before returning to her usual mask of calm. "No. There's nothing to worry about, Steve. It's only a test," she told him. "Why are you worried?"

Peggy could usually bring him down from any kind of anxious bout with her soft eyes and calming words but not right now. Right now he doubted anyone could calm him. "I'm worried that... that I'll have to leave," he lied, knowing admitting his true feelings would be a disgraceful thing to do.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Steve, I've known you your entire life and I know when you're lying," she said, making Steve's abdomen ache with guilt. "Why are you worried? Please don't lie to me."

He couldn't, not to Peggy. She was one of his closest friends. For a second, he imagined the two outcomes of the decision that lay before him. Choose Dauntless, where he felt he belonged, become carefree and daring and limitless. Or choose Abnegation, where he wasn't enough for them and they weren't enough for him. Marry Peggy, have children and maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

But he didn't want to settle for enough.

"I'm worried that I'll have to stay."

He'd said it now, only loud enough for her to hear, but he'd said it.

Her calm expression slipped into one of empathy and sincerity. "Oh Steve," she muttered, pulling him into a tight hug. "You don't. You don't have to stay. Damn the bloody test, you know your mind better than any computer." She pulled back, her soft hand resting on his neck. "You know yourself. Trust yourself."

The nerves that had gnawed away at his insides all day stopped when she said that, replaced by a wave of calm that only Peggy could bring. He broke into a smile and was about to reply when Melanie and Daniel reappeared, taking their original seats.

Hoping Peggy already knew everything that he wanted to tell her, Steve settled for kissing her on the cheek. He then looked to Tony, who gave him an encouraging smile and a nod of his head.

He looked to the rarely used door ahead of him that would lead to the room where he would be tested. There were ten rooms in all and two people from each faction were tested at a time. Eight of the people testing them would be Abnegation volunteers, as always. Two would belong to other factions, the people that would test the students from Abnegation. It was against the rules to be tested by someone from your own faction. The bite of the nerves had returned, but not in the way they had before. He felt nervous the way he always did before a test but that was controllable.

The woman by the door flipped through the clipboard she held and read out ten names. Steven Rogers came second to last. He stood up and gave Tony and Peggy one last smile before he made for the door.

* * *

 

The testing room was small and rectangular, three of its four walls the same white plaster as the cafeteria. One wall was made completely of reflective glass; a mirror. It is to Steve's left as he enters and he quickly averts his eyes out of habit.

The only other person in the room titters. "If I had a dime for every time you kids have done that today," she muttered. She pushed her vibrant red hair behind her ear as she tapped at the screen before her. Beside her was a reclining chair that resembled a dentist's and all manners of cables and wires coming out of it. The wires ended in adhesive pads designed to be attached to someone's head, resting in a metal tray next to the chair.

Distracting himself from the daunting sight, Steve stated, "We reject vanity."

She snorted. "Take a seat. That is, if comfort isn't self-serving." Steve ignored her and sat down in the seat, letting out a shaky breath. The woman was dressed in a tight black tank top and high waist black jeans that clung to toned thighs and calves. Her ear was pierced twice at the lobe, three times in the cartilage and a metal ring went through her bottom lip. She bent down to fiddle with some wires and Steve caught sight of the black flames that sprawled over her shoulder blades.

"Flames for Dauntless?" he asked.

She stood back up and smirked at him. "Yes. It's also one of my fears. You spend long enough being scared of something and eventually you'll overcome it," she said.

Steve thought of the test he was about to take and the decision he would make tomorrow. He thought of how long these things had terrified him. "I'll have to trust you on that one," he replied with a wry smile.

The woman returned his smile. "Well, that's the idea, anyway," she said, then turned back to the computer screen. "Steven Rogers, correct?"

"Yes."

"Right, Steven. My name is Natasha. I'm going to be administering your test today," she explained. She pressed one of the adhesive pads, an electrode to Steve's forehead and then another to her own. "You're not scared, are you?"

He let out his breath, repressing the nervousness and fragility that had plagued the very idea of this moment for years. He shook his head. He wasn't afraid; not anymore. She'd been right about fear.

Natasha plucked a small glass of liquid from the metal tray and handed it to him. It was thicker than water and clear in colour; a serum. "What's it for?"

Natasha considered him for a moment, a knowing look crossing her eyes. "Bottom's up," she replied.

He let out a small sigh and pressed the cool rim of the glass to his lips. The liquid was cool and tasted metallic as it ran down his throat, thick and cloying. His last conscious memory was Natasha taking the glass from his slow, heavy fingers.

* * *

 

The room Steve found himself in was large and musty and filled with people. He was sat on an unstable wooden chair, his bare feet pressed to cold tiles of an awful shade of green. There were two pieces of thick card in his left hand and a pen in his right.

The first piece of card was titled with "Department of Selective Service: Certificate of Acceptability" and stamped with 4F. He was found not acceptable for induction into active military service. Something stung inside him, a sense of irritation and foreboding. He looked to the other piece of card, the same as the first except all fields were clear.

It came to him that he had two options. He could lie on the second application and get re-evaluated. Or he could tell the truth and be immediately turned away.

He had no idea why that thought occurred to him. When he considered his surroundings, he had no idea where he was. Everything looked old and misplaced. The men on chairs to either side of him had odd haircuts and were stripped down to their vests and underwear. When Steve looked down, he noticed he was too.

He shook his head quickly, trying to clear out the confusion and figure out where he was. Thoughts of the blank card returned to him. Thoughts that seemed almost artificial.

_Choose_ , they supplied.

His confusion rose, his spine prickling as he whipped his head around. The other people in the room didn't notice his frantic movements.

_Why?_ he wondered.

_Choose,_ it was like a voice in the very back of his head, insisting, pushing.

_Why?_ he thought again, growing irritated. He snapped his fingers in front of the face of the man next to him. No response.

The words slipped out before he knew what he was saying. "This isn't real," he murmured.

Suddenly, a man in a white lab coat stood before him. Steve recognised him instantly. Dr Arnim Zola, a surgeon and Secretary of Health. Under his lab coat he wore the trademark blue of Erudite and his small, beady eyes watched Steve through his spectacles. "You look familiar," he said. "Have you applied before?"

Steve felt the urge to deny it. He knew that if he told the truth, he'd be denied again. "No," he replied, not once flinching under the surgeon's intense gaze.

"You're lying," Zola insisted.

"I'm not," Steve said. "Why would I lie?"

"Because you were denied the first time and thought you'd try your luck."

He shook his head. "There aren't any grounds to deny me," he pointed out, grasping for anything in his mind that could help him. He thought of faction history, of the physical attributes Dauntless valued. "I'm strong-"

"Hands up!" someone yelled in a heavy accent. Steve jumped, spinning to his left to see a man brandishing a pistol. He wore a uniform Steve recognised to belong to an army, but the accent and gun told him that this man was a traitor. A spy. The other men in the room who up until now had been completely unresponsive fell into panic. They thrust their hands into the air, backing away from the man with the gun who trained it on Zola and repeated himself.

Zola was frozen, watching with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, his hands at his sides. Steve watched in horror as the man cocked the gun, his finger wrapped around the trigger-

Without pausing to think, Steve threw himself in front of the weapon. He pulled one fist back and swung hard at the man, hand connecting with a strong jaw in a moment of white hot pain. The man stumbled backwards, letting out a yelp and misfiring the gun, the bullet showering them with plaster. The man swung at him with the butt of the gun and Steve caught his arm, forcing the weapon out of his hand. He threw it to the ground and drove his knee forcefully between the man's legs. The spy groaned with pain and crumpled to the ground, leaving Steve to give a small grin of pride.

Then, the room around him dissipated and he was alone once more.

* * *

 

"Get up," came a familiar voice.

Steve blinked hard against the harsh lights of the room, disorientated. Something was yanked from his temple and cast aside, a hand wrapping around his upper arm. "Rogers," the voice came again, insistent.

He blinked again and shook his head, looking to the source of the voice. Natasha. Right. "What's wrong?" he asked, finding he was terrified of the answer.

"Get up," she repeated, face contorted with panic. "I was right," she muttered. "Why the hell did I have to be right?"

Still confused, Steve got to his feet and allowed Natasha to tug him to a door he hadn't noticed before. "Natasha, what's going on? What were my results?"

She looked at him and paused for a second, letting out a shuddering breath. "You're going out the back way," she explained. "Quickly, before they check on you. If anyone asks, you say the serum made you sick and I sent you straight home. That's what I'm telling the officials. Got it?"

"Natasha," he snapped. "What were my results?"

She didn't speak for a moment, her mind working at a million miles an hour. "Abnegation," she replied and Steve felt his stomach drop. "At least that's what I manually entered."

Dread gave way to confusion and anger. "What? Just explain! Explain what the hell is going on and why you had to enter that!"

She grunted and tugged the door open. "Keep your voice down," she snapped. "Your results were inconclusive, Rogers. Abnegation... Erudite and Dauntless."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're Divergent, Steve! And if you don't get the hell out right now, someone's going to come along, realise you aren't sick and start asking questions. Then you're dead," she said in a dangerously quiet tone. "Go! Don't tell anyone. Not your friends, not your parents, no one. Okay?"

She shoved him through the door before he could respond and slammed it behind him. Steve was left in a dark corridor with a million questions.

* * *

 

Steve sat at the small table in his kitchen, his head resting in his hands. His fingers tugged at his blond hair, shorn short as Abnegation customs decreed. He was desperate for some kind of explanation.

The word bounced around his head, senseless and meaningless and dangerous. His mind supplied the word for him, drawing conclusions. Natasha had made it pretty clear that if anyone found out or he was caught, he was dead. This thing he was, it was dangerous. It could cost him his life.

There was confusion and anger and suffocating fear pressing down on him, churning in his gut. He let out a shuddering breath, opening his eyes to the room that grew darker as the sun neared the horizon. The seat opposite him was empty and he felt the most ridiculous twinge of irritation inside of himself.

She should be here, he thought. She should be here, helping him, protecting him, figuring out what was going on.

He shoved the angry thoughts from his mind and went to stand by the counter. He couldn't face her empty seat anymore. His mother was dead, there was no point wishing it would be different. That wouldn't help anyone now.

A thumping at the door interrupted his thoughts and Steve's heart leapt to his throat. They knew. They knew what he was and they were here to take him away. Interrogate him. Beat him. Shoot him. Who knew what would happen?

"Are you trying to break the bloody door down?" came a familiar voice.

Steve almost choked on the bubble of laughter that came up his throat. Peggy. It was Peggy. He let out a shaky sigh of relief and exited the kitchen, pacing down the hall. He fought to keep his breathing slow and level, his expression calm, if a little uneasy. Natasha said not to tell anyone. Not even his friends. He wondered for a second why he would listen to a woman he'd only just met but then he realised why.

He was Divergent, punishable by death. And she saved his life.

He opened the front door to reveal Peggy and Tony standing on his doorstep. Peggy was calm, if slightly worried and Tony wore an expression of exasperation. "Steven! Thank god. Her Majesty can find flaw in everything, can't she?"

Steve snorted and stepped away from the door, beckoning his friends inside. "Hey," he said stiffly, mentally reprimanding himself for the unusual tone. Tony moved past him and went to the sitting room; this house was as much a part of his childhood as it was Steve's. Peggy stepped inside and shut the door, turning to Steve with that worried expression. "Are you alright?" she asked. "You didn't come back after your test."

Steve bit his lip, guilt making his entire body ache. He thought of what she'd said in the cafeteria, of what he'd even admitted to himself. He couldn't lie to her. It didn't work. But he had to try. "Yeah," he murmured, "it was just the serum. It made me feel really sick. Dizzy and everything."

She watched him with her warm, observant brown eyes. Steve could see it plain as day in her delicate features that she saw right through his words. Just when his heart was starting to pound and he was ready to choke out an apology, she said, "Do you feel better now?"

For the second time in minutes, relief crashed over Steve like a wave. "Yes, thank you. Just slightly nauseous," he replied.

"Can you believe this?" Tony asked from the sitting room doorway. His tablet was in his hand, pointing towards them but too far away for Steve to read. "It's the data report to Erudite following the aptitude tests-"

"You hacked the Erudite database?" Steve asked incredulously.

"Yes," Tony answered simply, rolling his eyes at him. "Honestly, Steven. Sixteen years of friendship - anyway, I digress. Two instances of system failure, causing results to be manually entered. They're even more hopeless than they let on. One in sixty failure rate. You gotta do everything yourself..."

Peggy tittered. "Do what yourself?" she asked, following him into the sitting room. Steve traipsed after them, settling himself on his usual seat by the empty fireplace. The room was as plain as all the others in his home: grey walls, cream carpets, standard furniture. The three seated sofa and the armchair were at least suitably stuffed and comfortable.

"Well, get Erudite back on track! Advance technology and agriculture and job opportunities - for the factionless as well as us!" he said, that last part causing Steve to smile. If there was any part of Abnegation life that Tony fully embraced, it was sympathy for the factionless. He was a great believer in a phrase his mother had always used, "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again." He wanted to give the factionless another opportunity, allow them to try again.

Peggy gave him a smile and bit her lip. "So, this is our last night together then?"

It hadn't occurred to Steve until she'd said that. A lead weight dropped in his gut and he almost slipped from his seat, he felt so dizzy.

Tony nodded, his eyes trained on the floor. He felt guilty. Guilty for leaving them. Guilty for being so final about it. Guilty for being excited.

That made Steve feel worse.

"For now," he amended. "Maybe for initiation. But who knows? Maybe fate will conspire against me and I'll be stuck as Tony's coffee boy."

"And footrest," Tony supplied.

Peggy snorted, rolling her eyes at them. "You'll miss each other really."

"Thanks for the reminder," Tony said in a sarcastic tone, rolling his shoulders.

Steve raised an eyebrow, smirking at his friend. "You'll miss me?" he asked.

The shorter boy rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. "Of course, dumbass," he said, giving Steve a shake of his head. "Of course I'll miss you. How could you even ask that?"

It wasn't until Peggy shook her head and stood up that Steve realised he was wearing a ridiculous grin. "This is too sappy and final to bear," she pointed out. "Shall we make dinner?"

"You're not eating at home?" Steve asked.

"Well, if you want us to go-"

"No!" he said, a little too eagerly. Then, he looked from Tony to Peggy and back again, grinning. "I have pasta."

"Pasta it is!" Tony said, one hand thrust in the air as he charged for the kitchen. Peggy and Steve followed after him, laughing and momentarily feeling at peace.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **IMPORTANT:** This chapter is the Choosing Ceremony, so there are descriptions of people cutting their hands open. If that is triggering to you, you can message me on my [tumblr](http://www.scisaaclahey.co.vu) and I can help you out with a non triggering version/summarise what happens. It's absolutely no bother.  
>  As always, thank you so much for the lovely feedback! Unbeta-d, all mistakes are my own. Enjoy reading!

Of course, the reprieve could not last. Steve awoke early the next morning to find his body prickling with warmth, swaddled in his duvet. But there was a patch of cold in his chest and fingers of ice trailing down his spine that not even the doziness of sleep could touch.

He let out a full body sigh and shoved his covers off, getting dressed in his usual clothing. The shirt was too tight around his ribs, constricting him but the trousers fit well. He looked around his bedroom with a sense of foreboding. He knew that this was either the last time he'd set foot in this place or the start of a lifetime spent here.

He had no idea what scared him more.

Still having no idea what was coming, he looked for something small to take with him. Small but personal, to remind him.

But there was nothing. No photos or trinkets or personal items. Nothing to remind him of this house, of Abnegation, of his father's face or his mother's.

Steve couldn't remember what his father looked like anymore.

The thought made his chest tighten, so he forced it from his mind, going to the kitchen to eat breakfast. The building around him was silent. He could hear every creak, every mechanical tick, every movement. He wondered how Tony felt right now, knowing for certain where he was bound. Did he feel relieved?

Tony had never known complete silence. Even as a child, his home was bustling with council members and faction representatives. After that, it had been the constant din of growing children caught in close quarters, of fighting and arguments. Steve knew Tony and he knew he loved silence in every way that Steve loathed it.

He'd been careful not to ask his friends about their tests. Not only did it feel too final but he wanted to avoid similar questions, given his inability to lie to them. He didn't want to tell them anything about what was to come, not when he wasn't even certain of himself.

Steve locked the front door behind him and put the key under the welcome mat, for the use of whoever would need it. It crossed his mind that he had no idea what protocol was when a house just emptied out. When his mother died, an official had informed him that putting him into care was impractical. He only had weeks to go until the Choosing Ceremony and when he was an adult, he'd need somewhere to live.

The thought of that conversation arose a twinge of guilt.

When he arrived at the bus stop, Tony was there, waiting for him along with his foster parents. His foster parents were quiet people and they looked composed and peaceful with their other children at school. They gave Steve a polite nod when they saw him, which he returned before coming to a stop beside Tony. He offered him a greeting before standing in the respectful silence that was custom in Abnegation. On the bus, he gave up his seat for an elderly Candor woman, just like he was supposed to. He handed an expensive looking gadget back to an Erudite boy when he dropped it. He kept his elbows in tight so that he didn't take up too much space and inconvenience others.

It occurred to him for what was not the first time that he could lead a life in Abnegation, if he wanted to.

The bus wheezed to a halt in front of the Hub and a large group of people got off. When they got inside, the building was already abuzz. Groups of people congregated in the lobby. They spoke in tones of electric excitement, subdued pleasance and anything between. There were queues for the elevators, the stairs neglected by all except Abnegation. The odd group of Dauntless used them too, their wild stomping sprints all preceded by a yell of "I'll race you upstairs!"

Climbing twenty flights of stairs was difficult for anyone with asthma. Climbing steep stairs whilst Dauntless periodically shoved past you was even more difficult.

Steve reached the twentieth floor without pausing. His lungs were on fire and his shirt entirely too tight and constrictive. But he gave a breathless grin, having just proved to himself that he could do it, he could push through and keep going.

It was a small victory but it proved to him that the test wasn't mistaken, he could be Dauntless.

Tony fished something out of his pocket and pressed it into Steve's hand: an inhaler. Steve looked  to him and saw Tony smirking at him. "Alright, Captain, at ease now," he said, sounding out of breath himself.

Steve took a long draw from the inhaler, feeling relief spread like cold water through his chest. He raised an eyebrow at Tony. "You haven't had an asthma attack since you were twelve," he pointed out.

Tony shrugged. "I was... uh... looking through all my old stuff this morning and I found it. I know you always forget yours, so I figured you could use it," he said as they reached the room of the Ceremony. It was a massive circular room, half of it taken up by stands of seats much like that of an auditorium.

The taller boy considered this for a second and realising that Tony had been doing the exact same as he had that morning. He'd looked for mementos and reminders. Steve reached for the pocket where he kept his inhaler and realised he'd left it on his dresser this morning. He hoped the look he gave his best friend conveyed the emotions he couldn't put into words.

The stands were divided into five sectors by polished wooden staircases. The growing crowds of people filling them created seas of grey, red, blue, white and black. The noise the different factions created progressed like a soft gradient. Abnegation, sitting at the far end of the room spoke only in quiet murmurs. Dauntless next to door way shouted and whooped and cheered before the ceremony had even begun. The group of Abnegation that Steve stood with made their way around the front of the curved stage to the others.

Steve spotted Peggy waving at him in the first few rows of the stand, next to two empty seats. He gave her a grateful smile, not wanting to remain in the adults' stagnant silence for a second longer. He flopped down beside her, giving a snort when Tony collapsed next to him with a groan.

"Why the twentieth floor?" Tony questioned, rubbing his aching thighs with the heels of his palms. "A massive room with the sole purpose of hosting a ceremony attended by hundreds of people could have been built on any floor. Why did some dumbass choose the twentieth?"

Peggy laughed. "I don't see why you even bothered with the aptitude test, Tony. I just mentally ruled out at least three factions by listening to you talk," she said and Steve nodded in agreement.

Mumbling something about valid questions, Tony continued to jerk his head around. He studied his surroundings with his usual levels of curiosity and diligence. The only thing that caught Steve's eye however, was the long, semicircular surface on the stage. Five bowls were set on it, equally spaced and all an arm's reach from where he would stand to make his decision.

The bowl closest to them, Amity contained freshly turned soil. It smelled so sweet that it's aroma filled the entire room. Then was Candor, filled with shards of glass that signified transparency and ruthlessness. Erudite was water of crystalline blue, so calm the surface resembled glass. Abnegation's bowl was filled with polished, flat grey pebbles. It reminded Steve of the stones Peggy would skim over the surface of the pond in the park. Then came the smouldering black coals of Dauntless, crackling with vibrant oranges and reds.

Steve swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing. The familiar feeling of panic clawed through his chest, his breathing becoming shallow and shaky. Peggy laid a calming hand on his forearm and he took her fingers in his and squeezed. "Remember," she said as an Erudite leader took to the stage. "Trust yourself."

The Erudite man is familiar; average height, middle aged, sandy blond hair. He wore a tailored blue waistcoat and carried himself with an air of self importance. He stood on the stage and faced the factions, clapping his hands together. "Good morning everyone," he said. "In case you don't know, my name is Alexander Pierce. We are here on this most important of days to bear witness to our children blossoming into fully fledged members of our society." Steve raised an eyebrow. Another pretentious Erudite. "To remain brief, the faction system upholds our way of life and wards off the evil and corruption of humanity's past..."

He launched into a speech Steve had heard before, one about how the factions had come into existence. When what remained of humanity divided into five groups, they based their beliefs on what they thought caused the war. As Pierce spoke about these beliefs, the one that stuck in Steve's mind was Dauntless. They believed that cowardice was to blame. Although he couldn't agree wholeheartedly, he'd always prided himself on the fact that he was no coward.

When Pierce had finished speaking, Steve felt his heart pounding against his sternum. There would be a speech from a council member now but to his surprise, Arnim Zola got to his feet and took to the stage.

Of course Erudite had commandeered the ceremony this year. Dirtier rumours about Abnegation were slipping out every single day. Erudite would undoubtedly seize any opportunity to make themselves look better.

Zola gave the stands a once over, his small, beady eyes watching. It made Steve's stomach squirm, reminding him of the test, wondering why on earth Zola of all people would have been in it. The man set his teeth on edge. He advised the council on matters of medicine and health in the city. He was a leading researcher, testing and perfecting serums and tools. Steve knew the rumours about his unethical testing methods. He knew he shouldn't believe them, not after the awful and ridiculous rumours about Abnegation.

But it was easy to see that the faction valuing selflessness were not greedy hoarders. It was harder to deny that a man with the malevolent glint in his eyes and an unnerving presence could drive a patient to the brink of insanity.

He spoke about the factions and how they formed the foundations of the way of life. How lucky everyone was to be a part of this calm, peaceful society. All the ways in which they prospered, in industry and in equality was thanks to the simplistic beauty of the faction system.

"This is why you are here today," he continued in his heavy accent. "Yesterday, you each took the Aptitude Test to determine which faction you belong to. Today, you will make your final decision. It is, of course, your own choice but we, as a society, as your peers urge you to choose where you belong, not where you think you ought to be. Faction before blood."

The saying reverberated around the room, most people repeating it. The words stuck in Steve's throat and he let out a sigh. With that, Zola left the stage. Whilst the applause subsided, a council member got up onstage, a tablet in hand. She stood to the right of the bowls and waited for silence. When it eventually came, she held up the device and read the first name.

The names were read in reverse alphabetical order, the opposite of the testing order. This meant Tony would have to be the first to leave them. He prayed that Tony wouldn't be the first faction transfer. He wouldn't wish the stunned silence and curt whispers that came with that status on his worst enemy. Everyone said that transferring factions was completely acceptable and normal until it actually happened. Then, they made claims of offense and hurt and betrayal. To transfer factions was to be a traitor. To be the first person of the day to do it was to be a pariah.

There were only a few people with surnames that begun with the last letters of the alphabet. They all walked confidently to the bowls and sliced open their hand with the blade provided. They all let their blood drip onto the faction they were born to.

Tony's hands gripping his trousers so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Samuel Wilson," was called.

A tall, broad shouldered boy made his way along a row of Amity and down to the stage. He wore a red t-shirt and worn blue jeans with grass stains at the knees that refused to wash out. Steve had to smile. Even when the Amity were trying to appear put together, they bore the signs of their work. Samuel had gorgeous mahogany skin and the beginnings of laugh lines. His warm chocolate eyes flitted around the room as he walked. Steve saw how rigid his shoulders were under his t-shirt, how his fingers flexed restlessly. He knew immediately what was wrong.

Samuel took the offered knife and shut his eyes, pressing the sharp blade into his palm. A single bead of blood trickled down the glimmering knife blade and red pooled in his palm. He'd cut deep, deeper than was necessary and Steve wondered if he was trying to drain out the panic or just drown it out with the pain.

Samuel's eyes flitted to the bowl of aromatic soil, hand carefully cradled to his chest. He swallowed hard. Then he held his hand over the smouldering coals and, ignoring the sounds of shock, tipped his hand over.

The sound and stench of blood sizzling on the coals was the last thing that could be heard before Dauntless erupted into vivacious cheering and applause. Sam gave the smallest of smiles before joining them, desperate to exit the stage. Steve's eyes flitted to Amity, who were admittedly the faction most accepting of transfers. Many of them smiled and clapped, others looked stung. Steve spotted a man and woman who were clearly Samuel's parents. They smiled broadly and applauded, though tears threatened to break free.

Tony had relaxed.

More names were called that Steve didn't bother to listen to. There were two more transfers. Then, those with surnames beginning with S began to make their choice and Steve's breath hitched.

He turned to Tony, who stared back, restless with nerves. "Just remember," Steve said, "We're your friends and we love you no matter what."

Tony was about to open his mouth to reply when the council member called "Anthony Stark." Steve felt a flicker of anger, wanting to talk to his best friend one last time before everything changed. But Tony pushed himself to his feet and descended the stairs.

The room was silent, save for shaky breathing and restless movement. Every eye watched Howard and Maria Stark's only child, their legacy make his way to the stage. They scrutinised his unsure movements, the way he kept squeezing his eyes shut and blinking rapidly.

Tony was sickly pale, his chest rising and falling unevenly in a way that Steve hadn't seen since they were twelve. The inhaler was heavy in his pocket and he could feel it already, the gaping wound of loss, heavy in his chest. Tony clutched the silver knife.

He dug it into his palm and stretched out his hand, closing his eyes as a single drop of red splashed into the serene clear water.

There were shocked exclamations, mutterings and whispers. Tony blew out the breath he'd been holding and turned on his heel, walking - no, strutting - to Erudite with his head held high.

Peggy gripped Steve's wrist and he gave her a comforting smile. "He's happy now," he said. She smiled and nodded, blinking away the moisture in her eyes. Steve's eyes stung and the pain in his chest grew but he held it all back. His biggest decision was yet to be made.

The rest of the S category made their choices, no one quite provoking the reaction Tony had. Then, it was ringing in his ears. He'd thought of this moment for years but he'd not once anticipated the sickening jolt his insides gave.

"Steven Rogers."

He gave Peggy's hand one last squeeze. He hoped his eyes conveyed everything he wanted to say and he knew that after all these years, they did. Peggy could read him like an open book. She nodded and bit her lip, her eyes saying a million things that Steve felt too sick to even begin to decipher.

He stood up and made his way to the stairs, his legs shaking uncertainly under his weight. Down the stairs, his shoes echoing off every step, ringing in his ears. At the bottom, the leaders of Abnegation watched him, their kindness and sympathy etched onto their faces. Trying to remind him where his family was.

But Steve's family was six feet underground. The only person who could have made him stay was Peggy. She didn't ask him to. She told him that his choice was just that: his.

_Trust yourself._

The words were clear in his mind as he stood before the bowls, letting out a shuddering breath. He gripped the knife, even though he couldn't remember picking it up.

The splinter of pain in his palm grounded him, making him think as clear as day. He looked to the five bowls. His eyes fell on the two to his left.

Polished pebbles. Smouldering coals.

His third option, the water that had already cleared itself of Tony's blood taunted him. It was daring him to be good enough. It dared him to use the part of his mind that was as blue as Erudite to choose.

It was easy in the end.

The coals spat and sizzled as his blood dripped onto them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dead on my feet rn guys, so I'll fix any grammar errors tomorrow! This is my [tumblr](http://www.scisaaclahey.co.vu) and [Becca](http://www.dean-freaks-out-in-the-tardis.tumblr.com) got me thinking about "On your left!" so yeh, it's all her fault. Unbeta-d, all errors are my own. As always, enjoy!

The boy sitting next to him gave him a wide grin. "Sam Wilson," he said, holding out his hand in a clear attempt at the customary Dauntless greeting. Steve wondered if Sam was restraining himself from hugging him, as Amity usually did in greeting.

Steve shook it, his hands still trembling. "I'm-"

"You're the guy who gave Loki Odinson a taste of his own narcotics. I know who you are."

Steve groaned, chuckling when Sam did. Now that it was all done, he felt a lot calmer, pressing the bandage someone had given him to the slash on his palm. It had went better than he'd expected. He was only met by the usual wave of muttering when he'd chosen. The long list of names continued and he let out a heavy sigh, settling down into his seat. No more Abnegation or Amity joined Dauntless, but three Candor and four Erudite did.

First came Thor Odinson, the boy with long blond hair that had pacified Loki in the cafeteria yesterday. Sam let out an audible groan, which caused Steve to raise an eyebrow. "Where one Odinson goes, the other will follow," he explained.

Sure enough, Loki Odinson followed. The dark haired boy's eyes darted to his original faction as he took a seat to his brother's right. He stared for a second then averted his eyes, like he'd been burned. Steve looked to Candor, searching for whatever Loki had been looking at. He spotted a man with white hair and a grim expression. His face was round and aged but definitely the father of Thor. Steve let out a sigh and looked away, feeling sorry for the boys. That look meant that they were traitors in their father's eye. When Visiting Day came, he doubted Thor and Loki would even look for their father. Candor and Erudite thought Dauntless were reckless and idiotic, never taking their work seriously. Steve couldn't imagine the kind of shame losing both of your sons to them would bring.

They weren't the last Candor to transfer. A girl named Sif followed soon after. She was gorgeous, built like a Dauntless woman, moved like one. She took a seat beside Thor and they exchanged grins, causing Steve to wonder how long they'd been planning this. She didn't acknowledge the other brother, who returned the favour. It was foreign to Steve, to be on bad terms with a person. There was no room for rudeness and cruelty in Abnegation but Candor were so open with their feelings and thoughts.

Then came the Erudite. Three girls named Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill and Jane Foster were the next to choose Dauntless. They all looked strong willed if not yet strong bodied and Steve could tell they would do well.

Then, the council member called out "Margaret Carter," and Steve went rigid in his seat. He found Peggy in the crowd of Abnegation, beside two empty seats.

She was full of grace and composure as she came to the stage. Red blossomed in her pale palm and Steve could see the rigidity in her shoulders, the tension in her arms. For one moment, he felt a burst of happiness and hope as she looked between Dauntless and Abnegation. She closed her eyes, let out a level breath and held her hand over the grey pebbles.

Hope turned to numbness. The hole in his chest widened and burned.

She looked to Dauntless as she walked back to her original seat, her eyes meeting Steve's. She gave him a forced smile before turning away and Steve felt nauseous. He couldn't bring himself to be angry or disappointed. Trust yourself, she'd said. He could only guess she'd been trying to convince herself of it too.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Sam asked beside him, looking sympathetic.

Steve shook his head. "Just a good friend," he replied.

Sam gave him a nod, his expression understanding before he turned back to the stage and Steve couldn't help but feel like it might be okay. Maybe he wasn't all alone.

The final Dauntless transfer was a boy in blue. He hunched in on himself and looked kind and calm. He was called Bruce.

The ceremony finished with a girl called Annabelle Abrams choosing her birth faction of Amity. "That's a mouthful," Steve remarked.

"Good old Triple A," Sam said in a reminiscent tone, causing Steve to snort. A council member closed the ceremony with a short speech and gave her luck to the initiates. The Dauntless were shifting and getting ready to leave when Andrew Pierce came over.

Pierce talked to the leaders for a moment, exchanging the usual pleasantries. The Dauntless tittered and moved restlessly and Steve wondered if soon he'd be like that. Impatient, itching for the next surge of adrenaline. When it looked like Pierce would finally move on, his eyes fell on the abnormalities of the sea of black. He told the Dauntless leaders that he'd like to congratulate the transfers. Then, he climbed the stairs and came to a stop before Sam and Steve. Steve felt his heart quicken, knowing there was only one reason to single him out, wondering how they'd found out. He'd been careful. The blind panic he felt when he thought of what he was - not Abnegation or Dauntless - hadn't touched him today. He'd been so preoccupied with his friends and his decision.

"Gentlemen," Pierce said, his tone even and composed. "I'm glad that you've found where you belong." Nearby Dauntless repressed groans and rolled their eyes. It was nice to know the disdain for the prestigious Erudite leaders was widespread.

Steve wouldn't say he belonged in Dauntless. Not just yet.

Thankfully, Sam answered for him, brief and to the point. "Yeah," he said. "So am I."

"How about you, son?" Pierce asked Steve, holding out a hand.

"Steve Rogers, sir," he said, shaking it uncertainly. The way Pierce's eyes bore into him was making his stomach twist, "Yeah, I'm... uh, glad I've found the place for me."

"As am I," Pierce said, letting Steve's hand go. "Although I have to admit, I was surprised. Amity and Abnegation transferring to Dauntless is nearly unheard of."

Sam considered this and Steve raised an eyebrow. An Erudite of all people should know that these things happened. "That's kind of the point of the test, to correct irregularities," he pointed out, sounding far ruder than he meant to. A few people were completely shocked, a lot more started snickering.

Realising that he'd just talked back to his superior and singled himself out, Steve could have hit himself. He clamped his teeth down on his tongue, not missing the way Pierce's features flickered with irritation.

Pierce nodded curtly. "Exactly," he said. "Well, I hope you fit right in and go on to do brilliant things."

With that, Pierce moved on to greet Candor. "Sassed by a stiff, well I never," someone behind him said, another person bursting into laughter. Steve thought he'd have been in trouble but no one seemed to mind. Sam was grinning impossibly wide.

Then came an unintelligible shout and Dauntless sprung to their feet. In a storm of footsteps and exhilarated shouts, they fled for the exit. Steve and Sam exchanged a look of terror before following after, racing down the steps of the stands. Steve pushed all thoughts of Pierce and the Choosing Ceremony from his mind. Instead, he focused on staying upright and living to see Dauntless Headquarters.

They came to the stairwell only to discover that the Dauntless did not use the elevators on the downwards trip either. Steve felt terrified but the people behind him were not about to stop. He sprinted down the stairs, three at a time, ignoring shooting pains as his feet collided with the ground. The carpeted stairwell floor swam below him, rushing and receding at terrifying paces.

Having reached the ground floor, the Dauntless didn't slow for a second, racing out of the large glass doors of the Hub. Steve and Sam threw themselves into their full speed, keeping up with the other members. Steve's lungs were struggling to draw breath as they ran down street after street. His feet slapping on concrete and gravel and his heavy breathing were the only sounds he could hear.

Then, they came to the metal legs of the train tracks that ran above them. He was unsurprised when the Dauntless started climbing up them. Their hands and feet found impossible holds in the criss crossing structure.

"Oh my god," Sam groaned, reaching the front of the group congregated around one of the pillars.

"Go on," Steve encouraged. "I'm right behind you."

Sam nodded, swallowed hard and began pulling himself up the metal pillar. His long limbs were muscular from long years of working machinery and harvesting fruit. They guided him upwards and Steve followed after. He moved with less coordination and more reliance on his strength. He'd climbed the climbing wall at school before, had done rather well according to their teacher. Keep going, don't look down, he repeated in his mind.

They reached the train platform with their hearts in their mouths. Joining the Dauntless already congregated there, they noticed them gazing down the tracks to the left. Some stood on the platform, others on the rusting tracks. Some even had their ears pressed to the track, listening for vibrations.

"They're crazy," said one of the Erudite transfer girls. She had smooth brown hair and pretty, full lips. "They're all madmen."

Steve nodded in agreement. "That makes us madmen now," he said, causing the girl to look at him and grin.

"You're the kid that kicked Loki's ass!" said another girl, shorter with darker hair.

"And you shut down Pierce, that smug dick," the first girl said.

Sam laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder, who gave a sigh. "Yeah, that was me," he said. "I'm Steve."

"Jane," said the first girl.

"I'm Darcy," said the second.

Nearby, the other Erudite girl - Maria, he remembered - was speaking to the Erudite boy, Bruce. The three Candor transfers talked among themselves, looking around cautiously. Then, a Dauntless woman with many facial piercings let out a call of "Train!"

Sure enough, the aging train came into sight down the tracks. It ran at the slower speed it did in the middle of the city but showed no signs of stopping. "We're really jumping onto a moving train, huh?" Sam said over the mechanical din the train created. Hysteria was creeping into his tone.

"I think so," Jane said. "We're the madmen now."

The front carriages passed them, only the adult Dauntless amongst them managing to get on. Then, it was just the initiates. The Dauntless born took off at a break neck sprint, running alongside the carriages. Steve followed suit, despite his legs screaming at him. Soon, the Dauntless born were onboard and Steve ran alongside an empty carriage. He heard the rest of the transfers running behind him, so he took a deep breath, swallowed hard and jumped. He slammed into the side of the carriage, his feet finding the step, his hands gripping the handle. He hit the button that would open the door and pulled himself inside, letting out the largest sigh of relief.

Thor jumped in next, giving him a breathless grin before leaning out of the carriage to help the others. Steve did so too, an impressed smile working onto his face when he saw Maria already hanging to the side of the cart. He helped her inside and leaned back out.

Sam sprinted alongside the cart and helped Darcy keep up. He told her to jump and she did so, allowing Steve to catch her arm and help her up. Sif came next, ignoring Steve's attempts to help but giving a grateful nod when she was safely inside.

The end of the platform approached and Sam watched as Thor helped the final transfer, Jane inside. Then, he threw himself to the side, making it into the cart without any help. He landed heavily on his leg and rolled onto his back with a groan as the final planks of the platform disappeared.

Steve sat down in the carriage, his chest bubbling with hysterical laughter much like Sam's. "You idiot," he breathed, giving Sam's foot a kick.

"I believe it's called selflessness, Mr Abnegation," Sam said. He wore the comfortable grin Steve was getting to know like he hadn't just thrown himself onto a moving train.

"Still an idiot."

"Hey, they're the ones trying to kill us. Don't pin this on me!"

Steve laughed and pulled Sam up to sit beside him. He looked around, the howling wind that rushed in through the carriage doors making his eyes sting. Maria and Bruce were talking about something to do with the trains and how they ran on solar energy. Darcy, next to them just rolled her eyes, talking about how she'd left Erudite for a reason.

Sif sat on the opposite side of the carriage from Sam and Steve. Steve gave her a smile and she snorted and smiled back. Loki sat nearby in silence, his eyes clouded over in thought and Jane and Thor talked on the opposite side of the doors.

Steve thought he'd enjoy it here.

* * *

 

A half hour or so must have passed by the time Sif gasped, her eyes alarmingly wide. Steve's stomach dropped, wondering what on earth could have worried Sif. After all, she hadn't been fazed by jumping onto a moving train.

"They're jumping!" Sam said, looking over his shoulder.

Steve leaped to his feet and helped Sam up. They watched out of the door as Dauntless members flung themselves from the train, onto the nearby rooftop. A rooftop that was nearly a metre and a half away, a seven story drop lying between.

Sam muttered something obscene.

"Well, we need to jump them," Steve stated, spotting Dauntless born initiates in the next carriage jumping.

"Alright then," Sif said, sounding panicked. She gave a nod, swallowed hard, then sprinted from the far wall of the train to the open doors. She threw herself from the carriage, was suspended in air for a few seconds and hit the roof at a run.

Sam pressed his back to the opposite wall and looked at the open door, his eyes wide with terror. Steve saw the hesitation, wondered if Sam could do it on his own. He didn't want to take the chance of running out of time, so he took a deep breath and moved to his side. "On your left!" he shouted and bolted forward, struggling to keep calm and keep moving.

Sam let out an unintelligible yell and sprung after him. Steve kept running, one foot in front of the other and the doorway approaching far too quickly. Then, Steve was airborne and for the barest of seconds, the world ceased to spinning. Fire sprung up through his calves as he hit the ground running. He slowed to a halt before turning back to see Sam sprawled out on gravel that covered the roof, groaning loudly.

He repressed a snigger as Sam got to his knees, taking the hand Steve offered and standing up. "Definitely trying to kill us," he said, running his hand over a large scrape on his abdomen.

"You alright?"

"I will be," Sam replied, blinking hard against the glare of the sun.

They watched as the rest of the transfers jumped from the train. Thankfully, everyone made it. Even Loki, who looked ruffled and irritated.

"Listen up!" came a shout from behind them. Steve turned around and saw the rest of the Dauntless standing at the far edge of the roof. A man stood on the knee high boundary wall, his face momentarily hidden by the sharp shine of the sun.

Following Sam, Steve moved to stand with the rest of his new faction. The man, just under six feet tall was young, too young to hold a position of authority. Black outlines of indistinct shapes appeared at the collar of his t-shirt and faded into his dark hair. His arms were bronze, muscular and crossed with veins, folded over his broad chest, hands resting on his biceps.

"My name is Rumlow," he said. The Dauntless stood in uncharacteristic silence, completely rigid. Steve wondered if they did this out of respect but the way they completely avoided his gaze suggested otherwise. "I'm a leader of Dauntless. Now, three or four stories below me is the member's entrance to Dauntless Headquarters," he said. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pacing along the wall without the slightest tremor. "If you can't use the member's entrance, you don't belong in my faction. That applies to everyone but initiates do have the special privilege of going first."

Not one person questioned the way he laid claim to Dauntless. Did leaders really have that much authority here? Or was everyone just scared of this Rumlow?

Judging by the wider reaction, the privilege wasn't much of a privilege. Even the Dauntless born looked confused. "How exactly do we use this member's entrance?" came a familiar voice. Loki. "What are you expecting us to do? Jump off a building?"

Rumlow smiled and a shiver coursed down Steve's spine. "That's exactly what I'm expecting you to do, initiate," he said, the look in his eyes a clear challenge. There was a ripple of gasps and murmurs around Steve. He didn't know why anyone was particularly shocked.

"What, is there water at the bottom or something?" A Dauntless born girl asked.

"We don't have all day. Do I have any volunteers?"

The members cleared a path for the initiates, watching them. A few whispered to each other. He guessed they were making bets on the person who would be brave enough to go first and the person cowardly enough to wait until last.

Steve heard Loki whisper "The Stiff won't do it. No way."

It was determination that eventually spurred him forward. He was determined to be Dauntless. Determined never to be the Stiff again. Something inside him said that he'd just jumped off of a train, he had nothing to prove. But it was wrong. He had everything to prove to these people if he was going to be one of them.

Rumlow's awful smile faltered for a second and he stepped down from the wall. "How does that feel, Dauntless born?" he said in a tone Steve was quickly beginning to associate with a sneer. "The Stiff's more Dauntless than any of you."

Perhaps that should have caused him to swell with pride but the way Rumlow said it made it clear it was no compliment. Steve swallowed hard as he pulled himself up onto the wall, standing slowly. He took a breath in, exhaled and yanked his jacket from his shoulders.

Someone wolf whistled as he threw it aside.

"Are the Stiffs hoarding steroids too, now?"

He shut it out and looked down, seeing the gaping hole in the ground, which seemed miles away. The hole swallowed all light and he had no idea how deep it was and exactly what waited for him but he stood on the wall now. If he backed down, he'd be a bigger coward than he'd have been if he hadn't stepped up.

Steve swallowed hard, took a deep breath and jumped.

Whatever was being said behind him was completely drowned out by the howling wind that engulfed him. The ground rushed up towards him at a pace that made everything in him scream; warning, begging, crying. Then, he was swallowed by the limitless black, the air twisting and pulling at him.

It was all over when he slammed into a mesh of string, the fibres burning his bare arms and forcing the air out of him. The net rebounded and threw him a few inches into the air, bouncing below him a few times before coming to a stop.

Steve lay there for a second, regaining his breath and slowing the rampant thump of his heart before he felt the net jolt below him. It was yanked down to his left and Steve gracelessly rolled to the side,  stopping to pull himself upright. A hand was stretched out before him and he took it, swallowing a jolt of shock when his fingertips met cool, hard metal.

He dropped down from the net and looked to the hand that just left his. It was bionic, powerful and flexible and Steve quickly found it wasn't even the most interesting feature of the owner. The boy was tall, although not as tall as Steve. Broad but not as broad as Steve. But that was where Steve ceased to better the boy that couldn't be much older than he was. He was hard muscle and strong features, his long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. A black bar went through his left eyebrow and his ears were adorned with several rings each.

Steve hadn't understood the fascination with putting metal through your face until he'd laid eyes on this boy. He realised he'd been staring when the boy's stoic features cracked into a smirk.

"A Stiff? As first jumper?" The voice was familiar.

Reluctant to look away from the boy, Steve turned to see the woman who had administered his test. Natasha. She gave him a knowing grin and for the first time since he could remember, Steve felt proud.

"A Dauntless initiate," the boy reminded her, any trace of amusement that had lit his strong face was gone. Now that he'd stopped gawking, Steve looked around. He stood on a firm wooden platform with steel legs that reached down to the flooring of a large, dim room. Natural light filtered in from the gaping hole above their heads and the boy looked up through it.

Steve noticed the dark purple that ringed his eyes. At first glance, he'd thought it had been his thick lashes casting shadows or some kind of makeup. In reality, they were the dark rings Steve got when he had trouble sleeping.

"Lighten up, Barnes," Natasha remarked, shaking her head at the boy. "The last thing these kids need to see when they’ve just hurled themselves off a roof is your serial killer face." Steve bit back a smile when the boy, Barnes raised his eyebrows, his expression exasperated and uncaring. "What’s your name?" Natasha asked.

"Steve," he replied, confused that Natasha hadn't remembered.

She snorted. “Imaginative. Don’t worry, if you do well, you’ll probably earn yourself a nickname. Like… Black Widow,” she said. “Well, Winter Soldier, make the announcement.”

Steve felt like he was missing out on a joke as Natasha smirked and the look of exasperation on Barnes' face increased tenfold. He rolled his eyes and went to the edge of the platform. Steve followed and soon saw the massive crowd of people that stood below him, at the bottom of the assembled scaffolding. “First jumper - Steve!” Barnes announced loudly to the gathered Dauntless, who whooped and cheered.

Then, the boy turned to Steve, the smirk back on his face. "My name's Bucky Barnes," he said, icy blue eyes confidently holding Steve's gaze. "Welcome to Dauntless."


End file.
